Through an Open Window
by MBradford
Summary: Everyone needs a home and someone to love. A cat attempts to adopt a certain young hobbit...
1. An Unexpected Visitor

Title - Through an Open Window  
  
Author - Mbradford  
  
Rating - G  
  
Summary - Everyone needs a home and somebody to love. A cat tries to adopt a certain young hobbit and that same hobbit brings comfort to another.  
  
Disclaimer - I do not own Lord of the Rings, the Tolkien Estate does. I did not invent hobbits or cats, but I like both.   
  
This story was inspired in part by my own furry friends, Howie, Heidi, Ozzie and Tiger. They are a source of cheer and amusement and are brilliant companions and office assistants.  
  
Timeline - pre - quest, Frodo is 21 years old and has been at Bag End for only a few months.   
  
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~   
  
Chapter One - An Unexpected Visitor  
  
The sun was just peeking over the nearby hills, slowly spreading light and warmth over the green grass. Its rays expanded languidly over the land below, stretching out to touch the flowers beneath the window of the smial.   
  
She sniffed at the blossoms curiously, wondering if any others of her kind were about. She was young, but growing up quickly, and competing with the rest of her litter for food was becoming a chore. It was time she found someone of her own to care for. Perhaps there was someone here she could befriend.  
  
With that thought, she gathered herself and leapt at the flowerbox on the windowsill. It was a short distance for one so agile, and she landed lightly among the begonias, stirring neither leaf nor petal. The window was open to allow the warm summer breeze to enter, and it kindly allowed her to enter as well.   
  
The cat made no sound as she slipped into the room, but gazed around with great interest. The lone occupant of the chamber lay sleeping, completely unaware of her presence. She began to nose into the corners of the room, rubbing against table legs and other convenient items as she went. She could not detect the scent of food about, and surmised that this was not one of the rooms where the Furryfeet - her name for hobbits - prepared their meals.   
  
Perhaps if she woke the sleeping one, he would offer her a tidbit or two. She leapt carefully onto the bed and slowly approached the sleeper. She drew nearer, little by little, until she was nose to nose with him. She reached one paw out lightly, mindful of her claws, and touched him softly on the nose.   
  
Frodo stirred in his sleep, but did not waken. Sensing that she must try again to gain his attention, the cat repeated the action, this time with a questioning "Mrrrrrow?"  
  
Frodo's eyes opened slowly to see two luminous amber ones peering back at him out of a face covered with soft fur of a tawny yellow - orange interspersed with darker stripes. Whiskers twitched, tickling his face and Frodo laughed.  
  
"Well hello, there," he mumbled, giving the cat a light scratch behind one ear. "What are you doing in my room?"  
  
The cat responded by purring loudly and nudging Frodo's hand with her head to demand more attention. Frodo complied, sitting up and letting the cat settle herself in his lap. He petted her for a few moments, speaking soft words of encouragement. She didn't seem to be the least bit afraid of him, so he moved to lift her in his arms.   
  
The cat allowed herself to be raised from the bedspread, and Frodo examined her quickly. A female, then, and not yet fully-grown. He wondered where she came from. "Do you have a home?" He asked, feeling slightly silly speaking to a cat as if he expected an answer.   
  
"Mow!" The cat replied, and nudged him again.   
  
"Well, I suppose I should get up and see to some breakfast," Frodo told it as he set the creature down on the floor. "Maybe I've something you'd like, too," he added, much to the cat's satisfaction. She preened herself happily as Frodo dressed and scrubbed his face at the washstand. When he finished, he turned to the cat and beckoned. "Well, come on, then. Are you hungry?"  
  
The cat meowed again and followed Frodo out of the room, it's tail twitching and its ears perked up. This Furryfoot seemed to understand her well enough, and he seemed to be friendly.   
  
In the kitchen, Frodo found a bowl and poured just a little bit of milk into it. The cat rubbed against his leg to thank him and began to lap up her breakfast.   
  
At that moment, Frodo heard a sound behind him as Bilbo entered the kitchen, yawning and stretching, his dressing gown askew and his hair mussed from sleep. "Good morning, Frodo," he ventured. "Sleep well?"  
  
"Yes, Uncle Bilbo," Frodo replied. "And I woke to a surprise. Look what came in through my window. Can we keep her?" He pointed at the cat who was licking her whiskers daintily.   
  
Suddenly Bilbo was quite awake, and to Frodo's surprise, he was backing away. His eyes were wide, and he had thrust one hand up in front of his face as if to ward off something nasty. The other hand he held out in front of him, pointing at the furry creature in his kitchen. "Oh, dear, Frodo! Please, take it outside! I'm terribly allergic to cats!" He exclaimed.  
  
"Oh, Uncle," Frodo stammered. "I'm sorry. You never told me - "  
  
"Not your fault, lad," Bilbo responded quickly. "I never mentioned it before, never had occasion to. But she must be taken outside, or my eyes will swell shut and I'll not be myself for an entire day!"  
  
"Come on, girl," Frodo said, picking up the cat. "It's nice outside this morning and you can play in the garden." He carried the cat outside and placed it on the ground among the flowers. It rolled a few times and stretched out in the sun, enjoying the warmth. "I'm going back inside now, but if you stay here I'll think of something."  
  
The cat seemed unconcerned as to its fate at the moment and swatted playfully at a butterfly that flitted past.   
  
Frodo paused on the stoop and thought for a moment. The cat was very friendly and would make someone a lovely companion. It would be useful in keeping rodents away as well. But if he couldn't keep it, what was he to do? He couldn't just let it wander about aimlessly. It needed a home, and a good one at that.   
  
He sighed as he entered Bag End and made his way back to the kitchen. Bilbo sat at the table and looked up apologetically at Frodo. "I'm sorry, lad. She's a lovely cat to be sure, but I simply cannot have her here."  
  
"I understand," Frodo said with a nod. "But she must go somewhere, mustn't she?"  
  
"I suppose she must," Bilbo said, eyeing Frodo sharply. Was the boy so determined to find the stray a home because he himself had only so recently found one? Bilbo considered. Frodo had indeed had a home of sorts at Brandy Hall, but it wasn't like the home he had now. It was teeming with relatives, busy morning, noon and night, and there were few places for an introspective tween to find solitude when he craved it. Bag End was home to Frodo now, a real home with space he called his own, places where no one came to bother him without his leave.   
  
"If we can't keep her, perhaps I can find someone who can," Frodo said thoughtfully. "There must be someone we know who wouldn't mind her presence."  
  
Bilbo smiled. "A worthy pursuit, young Frodo. I expect your new friend would be quite grateful if you were to find her a place of her own."   
  
"Then I shall," Frodo said decidedly. "In the meantime, can she stay in the shed? I know she can't come inside Bag End, but she must have shelter in case there's a storm."  
  
"A fine idea, my boy," Bilbo said, glad that the issue had been at least partly resolved. "We've a few things about in the kitchen that would make a meal or two for her, and there's an old blanket in the armoire in the hall."  
  
Frodo thanked Bilbo and retrieved the blanket. He returned to the garden to find Sam kneeling and petting the little cat. "Hullo, Sam!" Frodo called, waving.   
  
"Mornin' Mr. Frodo," Sam responded. "Who is this, then?"  
  
"She invited herself in for breakfast this morning, and I've not the faintest idea where she came from," Frodo replied. "We can't keep her. Bilbo is allergic."  
  
"That's a shame, that is," Sam said. "She's a friendly one."  
  
An idea occurred to Frodo. "Can your family take her, Sam? Your sisters would probably love her."  
  
"That they would, Mr. Frodo," Sam agreed, but he shook his head. "But I know me Gaffer, an' he'll just be on about another mouth to feed. Don't do any good to tell him she'd be feedin' herself most of the time what with the field mice an' all."  
  
"Hmmm. Well, we've some time to find her a proper home, I guess," Frodo said. "In the meantime, Bilbo said he doesn't mind if she stays in the shed. I'm going to make her a bed from this blanket. You can help, if you like."  
  
Sam nodded and followed Frodo to the shed. The cat seemed to know something was afoot that concerned her, and she followed gamely behind, trotting at a brisk pace. Sam moved a few items off the top of a barrel in a corner and blew the dust off the lid. Frodo folded the blanket and laid it atop the barrel and called to the cat. "Come on girl. It's for you. Do you like it?"  
  
The cat leapt up onto the barrel and sniffed at the blanket. She turned three circles and stopped to knead it for a moment, then lay down contentedly and closed her eyes.   
  
"I think it'll do, Mr. Frodo," Sam said with a smile.  
  
"For now, at least," Frodo responded. "But I must find her a proper home, Sam. She deserves it, and there must be someone who would be a good friend to her."  
  
"I'll think on it, Mr. Frodo," Sam promised. "I'll let you know if I find someone."  
  
"Thank you Sam," Frodo replied. He rubbed the cat's ears for a moment, then left it to sleep happily in the shed.   
  
~*~ To Be Continued ~*~ 


	2. The Search for Home Begins

Chapter 2 - The Search for Home Begins  
  
Frodo put the final touches on the page and held it up to inspect it. In his careful hand he had written:  
  
In need of a home for female cat, age approximately six months. She is intelligent and friendly, and will be given at no cost to the right person. Please inquire of Bilbo and Frodo Baggins, Bag End, Hobbiton.  
  
"What do you think, Sam?" Frodo asked as Bilbo set the table with tea and cakes.  
  
"I think it's just fine, Mr. Frodo," Sam answered. To Bilbo he said, "Thank you for invitin' me to tea, Mr. Bilbo."  
  
"You're always welcome, Samwise, as well as the rest of your family," Bilbo said. "Sugar?"  
  
"Yes, please," Sam responded. "Mr. Frodo is going to put his sign up at the market," he added.   
  
"I'm hoping someone will see it and come by," Frodo explained.   
  
"Very clever, Frodo," Bilbo praised, as he raised his cup for a sip. "Much better to let any possible candidates come to us than to go seeking them out one by one."  
  
"I do hope we find someone to take her in," Frodo said, thinking about the cat who was romping in the garden at the moment. "It has to be the right person, as I wrote on the sign. I'll not have her going to anyone who will not treat her with the gentlest care."  
  
"I shall direct all inquirers to you, lad," Bilbo said with a smile. "They will have to endure your scrutiny if they wish to adopt her."   
  
"Yes," Frodo replied, "They will."  
  
~*~  
  
Frodo posted his sign at the market on a large wooden board. He fastened it with a couple of small nails between a notice offering the sale of several bushels of apples and an open invitation to any interested parties to attend a quilting bee at the Proudfoot home on the following Sunday.   
  
He arrived home to find a note Bilbo had left, stating that he had gone for a stroll and would be back shortly. He busied himself with tidying up the kitchen, and when he finished he retrieved a book from a shelf in the parlor and headed for the bench outside near the garden. He had just settled down and begun to read when he heard a voice.  
  
"Hey, Frodo! Where's this little critter you're giving away?"   
  
Frodo hid a frown behind the pages of the book and answered, "Really, Lotho, I hadn't thought you were really a cat fancier."  
  
"Maybe I am and maybe I'm not," Lotho shot back. "That depends. Can the beast catch a mouse or is she as useless as you are?"  
  
Frodo was preparing a sharp reply when the cat herself appeared and jumped into his lap.  
  
"So that's the little thing there, eh?" Lotho asked, moving toward the bench. As he neared, the hair on the cat's back began to rise and her tail fluffed up to twice its normal size. She laid her ears back and growled low in her throat.   
  
Frodo found the cat's behavior somewhat amusing. "I don't think she likes you, Lotho," he said calmly, attempting to soothe the cat.   
  
"How would you know, imp?" Lotho said nastily and reached out toward the cat. She hissed and bared her claws, swatting at him.   
  
"Are you convinced now?" Frodo asked, continuing to lightly stroke the cat's fur.   
  
"Stupid cat," Lotho muttered. "Good luck finding a home for it." He turned to go but stopped as if a new thought had come to him. He turned back toward Frodo and smirked. "Why can't you keep the thing?" He asked. "After all, old Bilbo seems to enjoy taking in strays."  
  
Frodo's expression darkened and the cat hissed at Lotho again. She jumped down from Frodo's lap and ran into the shed. Frodo rose to face his elder cousin. "I'll not dignify that with an answer," he said, closing the book with a sharp 'snap'. He moved as if to step past Lotho and re - enter Bag End, but the older tween gave him a shove into the grass - covered outer wall of the smial.   
  
"What's the matter, Frodo? Unwilling to admit to being a mongrel nobody else wanted?"   
  
"I see only one mongrel here, and a mangy one at that," Bilbo's voice came sharply from nearby as he made his way up the path. He prodded Lotho with his walking stick and said in a stern tone, "Off with you, Lotho, before I take my staff to you!"   
  
Lotho smirked, but did as he was told. Bilbo would indeed lay his staff across the tween's backside, and Lotho knew it.   
  
"Thank you," Frodo said with a smile.  
  
"My pleasure, dear boy," Bilbo replied, draping his arm across Frodo's shoulders. "Don't let him get to you, lad. You are most certainly not a mongrel of any sort, nor are you unwanted."   
  
"I know, but it's good to hear you say so," Frodo answered. "You should have seen how the cat reacted to him."   
  
"I can imagine," Bilbo said with an amused grin. "A good judge of character, is she?"  
  
"A very good one indeed," Frodo said, laughing. "I think she will likely let me know who she wants to go and live with in her own way."   
  
"You go and settle her in the shed and I'll put tea on," Bilbo suggested. Frodo did as he was bidden. No other visitors came to inquire about the cat that day.  
  
~*~  
  
"Anything yet, Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked curiously as he and Frodo stood talking in the garden.   
  
"No, Sam, not yet," Frodo answered. There had been a couple of inquiries, but nothing really serious. The one family who had seemed genuinely interested had brought a small child with them who had squealed and chased the cat up a tree in her haste to try to pet it. Frodo had decided that a household with small children might not be the ideal place for the gentle feline.   
  
As they stood talking, an older female hobbit ambled down the path toward the lower end of Bagshot Row. Her shoulders were slightly slumped and her demeanor spoke of a general disinterest in the world around her.   
  
Frodo watched her go by, then turned to Sam with a slightly perplexed expression. "Who is she, Sam? Why does she look so unhappy?"   
  
"Mrs. Rumble don't talk much these days," Sam commented. "She's right surly an' I don't go to near her meself."  
  
"I wonder why she's so out of sorts," Frodo commented as he watched her walk away.   
  
"She lost her husband just a few months past," Sam said as he leaned on his shovel. "She ain't been very sociable since."  
  
"I suppose I can understand that," Frodo said, thinking back to the loss of his parents when he was twelve. It had taken a while for his aunts, uncles and cousins to draw him out of his shell afterward. He had been disinclined to talk with anyone for very long, and had insisted that he just wanted to be alone with his grief.   
  
Frodo looked down at his feet as the cat appeared and nuzzled him. He bent down to pick her up and an idea came to him. "Sam, what about Mrs. Rumble?"  
  
"I don't follow you, sir," Sam said, a look of mild confusion on his face.  
  
"I wonder if she would like a cat to keep her company?" Frodo scratched the cat's ears thoughtfully as he spoke.   
  
"I don't know," Sam answered. "I'm too afeared of her lately to go an' find out."  
  
"I'm going to ask her myself," Frodo vowed bravely. "I won't know unless I do, and perhaps this little cat would be a comfort to her."   
  
"You're a braver hobbit than I am, Mr. Frodo," Sam remarked as he went back to digging.   
  
Frodo laughed and looked again at the friendly cat. "Do you want to go and meet someone tomorrow?"  
  
"Brrroww," she responded, and Frodo took that to be a positive answer. He decided he would drop by Mrs. Rumble's smial the following morning. He felt a flutter of uncertainty at the thought, wondering if she would shut the door in his face or hear him out. He was certain she wasn't as frightening as Sam made her out to be, and he contented himself with the thought that if nothing were to be ventured nothing would be gained, either.  
  
~*~ To Be Continued ~*~ 


	3. A Gift of Comfort

Lucia I. L. Tanaka - Glad you're enjoying this story. It's a short one, but one that's been rattling around in my brain for some time.   
  
Breon Briarwood - Hobbits and furry little kitties are a recipe for cuteness, aren't they? That cat knows trouble when she sees it, aka Lotho!  
  
Shirebound - Frodo seems the sort that a gentle animal would be drawn to. In my experience, cats are very perceptive! We'll see Widow Rumble's reaction to the cat in this final chapter.  
  
Camellia Gamgee - Took - Not all of us are cat lovers, I suppose. But given Frodo's experience with Farmer Maggot's dogs, I figured he might have more of an affinity with felines, lol!  
  
Endymion2 - The cat is in no way related to Bramblethorn, thank goodness! This was written shortly after "Harvest of Ashes", maybe as a way to recover from all that angst. I may be wrong to capitalize "Uncle" without following it with a name, but I'm using it in sort of a respectful replacement of a proper name. I'll have to check the guidelines on that!  
  
Mythwen - Not much is cuter than young hobbits and young cats!  
  
Hobbitfeet 13 - This story is quite a tame one coming on the heels of my last piece. My four kitties were the main inspiration.  
  
Cpsings4him - A home for the kitty is to be found in this chapter, as you might have suspected. Here's more for you!  
  
Shelbyshire - The cat would probably love to meet your parakeet. (Yikes!) Lotho is a poop. Willow Wode's Lotho has become what I picture of that character too.   
  
Sam - I would hate to be allergic to cats. I love my four so much! Frodo will do a very good deed in this chapter.  
  
FrodoBaggins87 - Nothing like reading a cat story with your own kitty nearby.  
  
FrodoBaggins1982 - Cats have all the fun, don't they? Watching the behavior of my own pets has helped with the portrayal of the kitten.  
  
GamgeeFest - I've never been owned by an orange tabby, but I've got a gray and black one who is a real fireball!  
  
Iorhael - Too bad Frodo can't keep the cat, but she's going to bring joy to someone who needs it!  
  
GentleHobbit - Bilbo's allergies are going to prevent Frodo from keeping the cat, but there's someone not far away who will love her.  
  
Spootasia Tomoe - It was fun writing the cat's point of view. I often watch my kitties and wonder what they're thinking.  
  
Chapter 3 - A Gift of Comfort  
  
Just after elevenses the next morning, Frodo found a basket with a hinged lid and coaxed the cat into it. She inspected the space curiously and leapt in, curling up happily inside. "Come on, girl. Let's go pay a visit," he said as he settled the basket in his arms. He left by the back gate and made his way down the Row to a smial at the very end, the home of Widow Rumble.   
  
Standing on the front steps, Frodo took a deep breath and steadied himself. He rang the bell and waited. Just as he thought his summons would be ignored entirely, the door swept open and there stood Mrs. Rumble, glaring sourly at him. All that he had carefully planned to say was forgotten as he faced that stern gaze.   
  
"G - good morning, Mrs. Rumble," he stammered, shifting from one foot to the other nervously.   
  
"Good morning, Master Baggins," she said, her tone not really cold, but not inviting either. "What brings you to my door?"  
  
"I - I was just wondering - " Frodo cleared his throat and looked down at the basket in his arms.  
  
"Well, now, what were you wondering about, young hobbit?" She prodded. "I've things to do and can't be standing in my doorway all the day long, you know."  
  
"I was wondering if you would like - um, I mean, I've someone I'd like you to meet - " As Frodo struggled for words under Mrs. Rumble's scrutiny, the basket shifted in his hands and the lid flew up. The cat leapt out unbidden and darted through the open door into the smial as Frodo gaped in horror.   
  
"Oh my!" Mrs. Rumble gasped in surprise, her hand flying to her breast. The cat began to sniff at her feet and legs.   
  
"Oh, Mrs. Rumble, please forgive me," Frodo said, trying to coax the cat back into the basket.   
  
Mrs. Rumble didn't seem to hear him. She was staring at the cat as it wound about her legs, purring. She bent slowly and picked the cat up, settling it in her arms. Rather gingerly she began to stroke the fur on its head, listening to the purring that followed.  
  
"Mrs. Rumble?" Frodo said quietly. "I wanted you to meet her. I don't even know if you like cats, so I hope you'll forgive my intrusion."  
  
"She's lovely," Mrs. Rumble said softly. "Is she yours?"   
  
"No, Ma'am," Frodo answered, smiling slightly. "She wanted to be, but Bilbo is allergic to cats. I've been looking for a good home for her and when I saw you yesterday - "  
  
"You thought of me," she said quietly. When she looked up again, Frodo thought he saw tears in her eyes.   
  
"Well, yes, I did," Frodo said. "I just thought maybe you could use a friend."  
  
"A friend, yes." She looked again at the little cat and she smiled. It was the first time she had smiled in some time, she realized. She suddenly felt as if she were seeing the sun break through a layer of clouds for the first time in many days. During the past few months she had hidden herself away except for the necessary excursions to the market. She had come to loathe the pitying looks and the words that were meant to console her. Now here was this young hobbit at her door, bringing not useless condolences, but something genuine and generous, a gift of simple kindness.  
  
"I haven't named her," Frodo ventured. "Would you like to keep her?"  
  
"Yes, young Frodo, I would like that very much," Mrs. Rumble answered, her eyes dancing. "I think I'll call her Sunny. She's the color of sunshine and brings cheer with her where she goes."   
  
"She does at that," Frodo agreed, smiling broadly now. "Thank you, Mrs. Rumble. I know she'll be happy here."  
  
"Thank you, Frodo. We'll both be happy, I think."   
  
Frodo turned to leave but Mrs. Rumble stopped him with a light touch on the shoulder. "You and Bilbo are always welcome, you know," she said softly.   
  
"And you are always welcome at Bag End as well," Frodo answered politely. He bade her farewell and walked up the path, the empty basket swinging on his arm and a warm feeling flooding through him.   
  
~*~  
  
"Frodo, what have you been up to?" Bilbo asked as Frodo entered the kitchen at breakfast time the following day. "Been out and about charming the ladies, have you?"  
  
"What are you talking about?" Frodo asked a hint of amused confusion in his tone.  
  
"Oh, just baskets of home made apple tarts appearing on the steps with notes of thanks," Bilbo said, gesturing to a basket on the table. A delicious aroma was issuing from it, and Frodo looked at it in wonder.  
  
"Notes? From whom?" he asked. Bilbo handed a folded message to him and he began to read it.   
  
Dear Master Frodo,  
  
I wish to thank you properly for your wonderful gift and visit yesterday. I confess I was rather startled to find a young hobbit at my door, or anyone for that matter. Since Mr. Rumble's passing I've not been very good company, I fear.   
  
Your gift has brought a joy into my heart that has been absent for some while. Sunny and I are getting on splendidly. She is simply delightful and seems to know exactly when I'm in need of her.   
  
I hope you and Bilbo are doing well, and that you will enjoy the apple tarts. You are a fine lad, and Bilbo must be very proud of you.   
  
Sincerest regards,  
  
Mrs. Rumble  
  
As Frodo stared at the note, Bilbo patted his arm and said, "The coming of that little cat seems to have been a good thing indeed."  
  
"Yes, it has," Frodo responded. "I'm so glad she has a good home."  
  
"You've done a fine deed, lad," Bilbo praised the tween. "You did what so many others have failed to do."  
  
"What do you mean?" Frodo regarded Bilbo quizzically.  
  
"You've provided true solace to one who was very much in need of it, and all by being thoughtful. Mrs. Rumble didn't need to hear anyone say how sorry they are to hear of her husband's passing, or any of the other things most adults say as a matter of course or habit. She needed to have someone say 'I'm thinking of you.'"   
  
Frodo nodded, understanding. "You should have seen her when the cat jumped out of the basket. She was surprised at first, but then she just sort of... changed somehow."  
  
"The same way you did, all those years ago when you lost your parents. Do you remember?" Bilbo watched as Frodo's gaze became wistful and faraway.  
  
"Yes. For months I avoided everyone. I thought if I could hide away from them I could hide from my sorrow too. And then you came to visit."  
  
Bilbo had indeed gone to Buckland a few months after Frodo's tragic loss, for the express purpose of seeing how the lad was getting on. There had been an emptiness in Frodo's eyes that had disturbed him greatly, and he had decided to try to draw him out the only way he could think of.   
  
"I left the book right where I knew you would find it," Bilbo recalled. "I didn't have a cat to give you as a friend, but I thought perhaps the lure of a good tale would bring you into the open again. After all, you are a Baggins."  
  
That last statement brought a laugh from Frodo. "Yes, I am at that," he agreed. "And rather than patting me on the head and saying, 'poor lad', you gave me something else to think about, something to capture my attention besides my sadness."  
  
"Time heals most things, Frodo. You and Mrs. Rumble will always remember those you have lost, but you'll treasure those who remain near you and you'll let them bring you joy." Bilbo handed Frodo a cup of tea and raised his in salute. "To life and all the good things it brings us, Frodo lad."  
  
Two teacups rang against each other in the kitchen of Bag End.  
  
~*~ End ~*~ 


End file.
